


Life Below Stairs

by MorganMacCallum



Series: Dissolved World [2]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reverse Falls, F/M, Violence, some ocs just chilling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2019-11-19 02:50:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18129971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorganMacCallum/pseuds/MorganMacCallum
Summary: The events of Dissolved Boy from the perspective of the servants working in the Gleeful mansion.





	1. A Day In The Life of a Servant

"We were the people who were not in the papers. We lived in the blank white spaces at the edges of print. It gave us more freedom. We lived in the gaps between the stories."

CHAPTER ONE

The day could often be determined based entirely on the mood of the young mistress in the morning. If she was in a good mood, she would have the decency to not be rude to the servants, but if she was in a foul mood she could be heard whispering about them under her breath and would find all sorts of things to be upset about.

The maid, Emma, would carry a tray to her room at roughly eight in the morning and knock on her door before entering. Emma was half-blind and her glasses slightly cracked as a result of a recent fall, so her hands shook each time she went up the stairs.

“Good morning, young mistress.” She set the tray on the oak coffee table in Mabel’s room, pouring her a cup of tea as the girl slowly dragged herself upwards with a grumble.

“Good morning, Emma.” She was in a decent mood. Emma handed her the cup of tea. A tea cup made especially for the family, painted blue butterflies dotting the porcelain white surface. Mabel took a sip. “Piccadilly blend?”

“Mr Cerebri thought you would enjoy it.”

“Did he now…?” The relationship between the head butler and Mabel was a complicated one in that everyone seemed to adore him, yet there was a particular pressure to him that Emma could not quite comprehend. “Strawberry…”

Emma then opened the curtains, letting in sunlight. She heard Mabel wince at the sudden brightness of the room as she tied away the heavy blue curtains, tossing the fabric behind silver hooks on the sides of the windowsill.

“Performance practice begins at eleven today, and at one Mr and Miss Gleeful have a dance lesson. Miss Gleeful has an arranged tea party with Miss Chiu and Miss Grendinator at three before the performance performance begins at five.” Mr Cerebri began that morning as all of the servants stood before him in the kitchen.

He was a relatively new servant all things considered. He started when Mabel was only fourteen years old, following soon after the new gardener. Her name was Yoriko, and she was a heavy scarred but remarkably cheerful individual with strange eyes that set Emma on edge if only for the fact that one eye had a permanently blown up pupil which made her look half-mad. She learned that Mr Cerebri and Yoriko knew each other soon enough, and that was partly why they were hired together.

“Miss Carter?” Emma stiffened at her name being mentioned.

“Yes, Mr Cerebri?”

“You are to launder the washing and organise the clothes for tonight’s performance. Once Miss Kanashiro has finished with the flowers you are to assist Mr Cipher in setting up the table for the tea party this afternoon. You are also to arrange tea for the dancing instructor and the young mistress and master. Do not spill it on them.” Emma flushed, recalling tripping on her shoe laces last time and spilling the tea all over Mason’s front. It was the most humiliating thing to ever occur and she was lucky she had not been fired on the spot.

“With that in mind, we will need something summer based for the flower arrangement. I trust you’ll know what will do Miss Kanashiro, nothing too obnoxious this time either; no sunflowers.”

“Of course, Mr Cerebri.” The smile on her face suggested that she would smuggle in sunflowers wherever possible however, and Emma knew it to be because it was her favourite flower. Bright, yellow, and full of energy; just like her. “Just enough for the one table?”

“Correct. Mr Cipher?” William squeaked like a nervous lamb, as was always the case. He was tall, but not nearly as tall as Mr Cerebri, with a distinct shyness that followed him wherever he went. Emma just wanted to wrap him up in blankets and coddle him like a child; he was so fragile in her eyes. “Before you help to arrange the table you are to bring breakfast to Master Stanford and his brother. Refrain from staining the carpet any more than you already have.”

“Y-y-ye-yes sir.” There was a constant stammer in William’s voice, as though everything in the world were frightening to him. Perhaps that was true in a sense, but she often wondered why he was hired if he was so delicate a person. “Right away!”

Mr Cerebri was often at Mabel’s side during the day assisting her with small things, and from the small flickers that Emma saw through the crevices, it appeared as though he were trying to help her through some troubles although she was never certain. Since she was a young child Mabel had been the least stable of the two, emotionally a wreck the more abusive the family had gotten until she had turned into who she was now.

She used to cling to the housekeeper like glue until Master Stanford had dismissed her, and then she became even worse. She wanted to know what all of the servants were doing at all times to the point of obsession, and would cling to anyone new like an exceptionally stubborn and miserable puppy, always getting underfoot although she claimed she was simply making sure they were doing their job.

She was like her brother in many aspects, Emma thought, as she dusted the furniture in the parlour. Both were raised in an environment which stifled their needs for affection and love, and as such became attached too quickly to that which showed them a morsel of genuine kindness. She thought that was perhaps why they were fond of Pacifica despite her constant search for information on how to destroy their family.

Emma was not one to speak ill of her family, but she looked at Master Stanford and Master Stanley and could see why she would want to do such a thing. She may have had a profound respect for them, but there was nothing she enjoyed about them being so neglectful towards their own kin.

William came stumbling in, shaking like a leaf, with the white tablecloth. William was particularly fond of the other servants due to their kindness towards them, and Emma noticed how he bloomed like a flower underneath their gazes, turning out to be as sweet as he appeared and entirely enamoured with Miss Kanashiro. Perhaps it was because she patched up his frequent scratches, or her sharing food with him, but somewhere down the line he had fallen into instant puppy love and Emma could practically see his tail wagging every time she looked at him.

“H-he-here’s the cloth.”

“Thank you, Mr Cipher. Let’s get this table sorted.” With a nod, the cloth was opened up and tossed over the small round table, the surface smoothed out. William had just missed Miss Kanashiro by seconds, the woman taking to climbing in through the window to bring in Marigolds and Pansies for the table. A small vase was set in the centre, the flowers placed inside with the pansies on the outside, and marigolds filling the middle.

William’s hands shook as he set up the cutlery, and Emma noticed his fingers were terribly bruised, purple from the tip to the bottom. If he were not moving them, she would have thought they were broken.

“Are you alright?” William stared in wonder for a moment, before tears began to fill his eyes. He could not stop crying, and Emma had to embrace him to muffle the tears, stroking his back. “It’s okay, dear. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Poor William, she thought. He deserved no harm.

Mr Cerebri stood at attention at Mabel’s table serving tea and small cakes that the cook had made not long before Candy and Grenda had arrived. Mabel looked utterly bored out of her wits, but somehow managed to keep smiling as they spoke about insignificant and dull things.

“Did you see the new boy in town?” Candy began, lifting her tea cup to her lips. “Really tall, albino. He’s staying at the Pines shack.”

“Maybe it’s a relative of Bud’s?” Grenda offered, shoving a scone into her mouth and chewing loudly. Mabel’s smile became more strained at the sight, but her curiousity was peaked. She had not heard of Bud having a child, and the sheer concept was repulsive to her. However, to her, anything new was exciting and she was determined to see the new individual. Mr Cerebri could only smile at the girl as she demanded more information.

Emma had to be delicate with the washing if she were to prevent damaging it. The material, although hardy, was expensive and whilst it was made to take a beating did not necessarily mean that the young mistress and master would be happy if the clothing were anything short of perfect. The clothes were ironed and left on the beds of each twin before she began to process of checking each window before closing the curtains.

She always left one window open for Pacifica, although changed it each time to give the girl a challenge and to make her little trick less obvious. While the family did not necessarily mind the girl’s presence, they also did not want to make it seem like they were purposefully inviting her in, as was the nature of the Gleeful family. They never wanted to directly say how they felt.

She knew Mason was especially fond of the girl. Always watching her from the shadows, and saw that his telescope was directed at her house more than once, seeing her working in her small garden patch. He was positively smitten, although if anyone ever suggested such he would surely lose his temper, so she did what she could to support the relationship.

Pacifica happened to enter the mansion after the twins had left for their main performance. She was dressed in orange and green shorts with a bright yellow t-shirt with the sleeves missing, rainbow coloured glowing shoes on her feet as she entered through the second storey window. Pacifica glanced at Emma for a moment, an eyebrow slightly raised as if to challenge her, but Emma merely smiled.

“Tea, mistress?”

“Mmm… no, I’m here for beans.” Her sing-song voice echoed in the empty corridor, strolling through with her carefree dismissal in pursuit of Mr Stanford’s office. She would not find what she was looking for, as she never did, but she would still go back hoping for something new. The girl was determined, Emma would give her that much.

There was a crunch outside and Emma saw another person trying to scale the gate. This was not a welcome guest like Pacifica, but an intruder. With the twisting of her wrist, the piano wire stretched out and sliced the man into pieces, his blood staining the grass, bits falling to the ground. How troublesome, she thought, that the dogs would have to eat such poor-quality meat.

Despite her clumsiness, there was a reason that Emma was hired as the family servant. She was exceptionally skilled in killing and detecting with wires scattered about all of the ceilings of the house, and she always knew exactly where everyone was because of it. She was a professional killer as well as a maid, and she would do whatever it took to defend the family.

The dogs cleaned up the mess before Pacifica could see it. It would be a heart breaking for Mason to lose his girl over a simple intruder.


	2. The Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A review of the date from the eyes of the servants.

“Real obsession needs an unconscious motivation behind it.”

-Damon Galgut

CHAPTER TWO

Mabel was positively bouncing with energy that afternoon as Emma helped her to dress in her new clothes, a wonderful summer dress of a rich navy colour which was dotted with sparkles to give off the allure of the galaxy clinging to her figure.

“He’s actually as handsome as Grenda said. He’s got the figure of an ox and some serious muscle under that hoodie. Imagine what he would look like in a suit.” She was already dreaming of a perfect world where Gideon was her lover and Emma could not help but be concerned.

“Remember to go steady with him, Miss Gleeful, men tend to run from the enthusiastic.” She responded as she buttoned up her dress at the back. With so many buttons she wondered how it was meant to be worn by anyone that was not with a servant, then she recalled the price of the dress and decided that no one without a servant would buy it.

She thought Mabel quite like her own doll to dress up. The way she went through clothes was absurd, perhaps to distract herself from her own harsh reality, and each week there was a new set of clothes to be found for Mabel to entertain herself with. Her skin was perfectly clear for now, but Emma recalled when she used the buttons and frills to hide bruises, knowing that each time she stepped out of line a riding whip would be used on her wrists or her back to keep her in place.

“Oh yes, I’m going on a few dates with him before I bring him here.”

“And Master Gleeful approves?” The question received no response from Mabel. So, he did not know. That would be troublesome in the future, he disliked being kept in the dark on anything, not that he was ever truly in the dark, but it could be taken as rebellion from Mabel which he certainly would not tolerate. “I am sure he will like the boy as much as you do.”

“Y-yes.” It was the first time in a long time she had stammered. Emma was reminded of William instantly, and felt the compulsive urge to embrace Mabel. However, she knew that would only receive protests, so she only tied the bow at the back of the dress.

“There. Perfect for your date.” Mabel glowed in the full-length mirror. She had found herself a man and was determined to keep him.

 

William found Mr Cerebri utterly astounding in his nature. He already knew the man to be a demon, but he could not comprehend how powerful as he was especially skilled in hiding his presence, so much so that even Stanford had not caught wind of the fact that he was significantly more powerful than himself.

Perhaps that was why he found himself following the butler that afternoon, having been given the day off by Stanford in a rare freedom which rendered him lost and confused. Perhaps it was his cool composure, or the way he was capable of solving any problem directed his way in record time, but William could not help but find the man amazing; his eyes glittering with unshed tears.

Mr Cerebri was patient with him that afternoon, showing him how to serve the tea and what temperature was appropriate for each tea. He was never to pour hot water directly onto the tea, instead pouring the water into a tea pot and then adding the leaves and let it brew before serving it. Each tea had a different time, so it was difficult for him to recall, but he wanted to make everyone proud so he forced himself to try his hardest.

When he made his first successful tea he burst into tears and was unable to stop crying because of the sheer joy involved. He spilt the tea on his hands and shattered the tea cup it was in; thankfully it was not a one-of-a-kind tea cup, perhaps with Mr Cerebri having the hindsight to know that he would shatter it in his emotional state.

“This is good tea.” Was what Yoriko had said. He had brought it outside to her in a canteen as she worked the rose bushes, hardy gloves on her hands. He struggled to stop shaking as he poured her tea, watching her light up like a Christmas tree at the taste. “Thank you for bringing this to me, I was about to go inside to grab something to eat.”

“N-No-No problem. Glad to serve.” He smiled back. How one human could be so bright was a mystery to her.

 

There was terrible news that evening. Mr Cerebri and Yoriko had gone to that night’s performance with the intentions of supporting the family in their show when, entirely out of the blue, Mason dropped head first on the stage and did not move. He had been ill earlier that afternoon but had refused to rest.

Yoriko reacted just as quickly as Mr Cerebri who had picked him up immediately. Mabel was positively scarlet with embarrassment as Mason was taken back stage. Yoriko opened out a small bottle of ammonia, waving it in front of his face to bring him back to consciousness.

“What… where…?”

“You passed out, Mr Gleeful.” Yoriko stated as there was a commotion at the front stage, most likely Mabel trying to control the concerned townsfolk. Mason turned red, running a hand through his hair. “We’re taking you home now.”

“No, I’m- I’m alright.”

“No, you aren’t, young master. Now Mr Cerebri will carry you back to your bed whether you like it or not.” He visibly bristled, and Yoriko could see him getting ready to protest before she shushed him. “Best get rest before Master Gleeful catches wind of what happened.”

He tensed, his shoulders rising slowly with a distinct aura of fright. It was then that Yoriko leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

“I will see if I can get Miss Southeast to come visit you, if you try and rest up.” It was rare that Mason became embarrassed, but in that moment he did. Yoriko was known for her sharp eyes and she saw everything including the extent to which Mason wanted Pacifica to like him. He flustered for a moment, as if to deny himself the opportunity, before meekly nodding his head.

It did not stop him from hiding his face when Mr Cerebri carried him out of the tent all the way back to the mansion. Nothing drove him insane faster than losing his dignity, but nobody saw him being cradled like a child, and although he would not admit to it out loud, or even in conscious mind, he enjoyed the feeling of safety that came with it.

 

The date went perfectly based upon the swing in Mabel’s step when she came back up the cliffside, a tall boy with white hair not far behind her. Emma watched with concern, fiercely protective of the girl. She knew from Yoriko that the boy was called Gideon Pines and that he was related to Pacifica Southeast, which likely meant that he was sent in by her to spy on the family. Her hand twitched as the buzzer went off and the gates were opened.

Mabel seemed to be in a ridiculously good mood as she skipped into the house, and it was then that she was informed that Master Stanford wanted to see her.

“Set up some tea for our new guest.” So, he would be plucking away Mabel’s shiny new toy. It was a shame, she thought, because there would be people outside of Gravity Falls that would notice he was missing.

 

Yoriko was in horror at the state of her rose bushes. Glass was shattered on the ground and she spent far too long picking up the pieces and putting them into a bucket when Mr Cerebri came up to her stating that one of the windows had been broken. The bush was completely flattened with the weight of two people crushed against it. She tried to fix it but had to use wire to try and encourage it to grow back in position.

Yoriko had a lot of opinions on the family and knowing that they vanished people away distressed her. Having to clean up after them distressed her and knowing that her fertiliser was what remained of the people, feeding their garden, made her feel like a monster for not telling the police. Not that they would ever believe her.

It was Stanford Gleeful who hired her, finding her in the middle of the woods lost and wild still clutching onto her stomach with a gun in her hand. She had actually managed to get past his magic and injured his arm; something which must have earned his approval for he decided to hire her on the spot, taking her under his wing and his watchful gaze.

She knew it was because it was better to keep her close rather than on the loose as a potential threat. She was just glad to have Mr Cerebri nearby, it made her feel safe even though he was far from it. He was at least safer than the average lot in the family. She kept her head down and kept on listening.

 

As Emma undid Mabel’s dress, pulling on her nightgown, the girl fell into rambles.

“I didn’t think he would respond that way! I was just going to scare him a little bit then offer him a proposition. I can’t believe Pacifica sprayed me with a fire extinguisher!” She was almost manic, shaking with frustration from head to toe, pacing in her silk pyjamas, barefoot with her hands flapping at her sides. “She threw him out the window. Out the window!”

“Perhaps she feared you would harm him?”

“I would never harm Giddy!” She knew then that Mabel would stick to this path, folding the clothes over her arm. “I would never…”

“Of course, young mistress, my mistake.”

As she passed by Mason’s room, she heard violent coughing. She opened the door slightly, peeking inside.

“Do you require anything, young master?” She barely heard it, a whisper that she could barely understand.

“Pacifica…” Poor Mason, she thought. He was better at hiding it, but he was just as obsessed as Mabel. They were both trapped with their affection with nowhere to put it. They would imprison those children if they believed it would keep them by their side. No different from the obsession Stanford had towards Fiddleford. She sighed, and shut the door.

 

She passed Yoriko on the way to the kitchen.

“I promised the young master I would try and get Pacifica to see him if he rested. I have to stick by my word.” She stated with a nod. “But he cannot confine her.”

“Of course not.” Emma did not know how to feel when Yoriko was serious. Yoriko preferred to maintain the aura of cheer, but her scars and her eyes told her enough. The fact that Master Stanford was the one to directly hire her told her enough. Just because she had not seen the woman in action did not mean she was not dangerous.

“I want them to be happy, you know.” Emma nodded, watched Yoriko set bluebells on the table. She had seen the twins grow up, it was only natural she felt an attachment to them, and Yoriko could see it as clearly as anyone else that they were still just children.

However, to save them was to take care of Stanford and Stanley, and they would not be able to do that. Not for a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's me all caught up with Dissolved Boy so far -sweating- I hope to update very soon if you'll be patient!


	3. The Ball Awaits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ball approaches

“Those who choose to be servants know the most about being free.”

-Janette Oke

CHAPTER THREE

There was a lot to be said about a man who could not dress himself, often thought William although if he were to say such things he was certain to be beaten. He was solemn and quiet as he served Mason his breakfast tea: English Breakfast as was preferred according to Mr Cerebri. Mason saw the way his hands shook and made comment:

“Do you ever stop shaking?”

“S-s-so-sorry, young master.” Mason scoffed, as he so often did when he was in a decent enough mood not to strike William where he stood, or when he was thinking of how others outside the family would perceive him if he committed to such behaviour; not that William knew a great deal about that.

Mason wanted to dress well, or more well than usual, that day. William did not understand it at first, seeing no reason for Mason to go out dressed in a three-piece suit, until a certain woman was mentioned.

“I will invite her to the ball in a week’s time.” He stated, more to himself than William. If there was one thing that William knew, it was not to voice his opinion to Mason on such matters. “I’ll get her a decent dress, so she doesn’t look so… ugh.”

It was obvious to all of the servants that Mason had a thing for Pacifica. Perhaps it was her carefree nature, perhaps it was her determination, but he was ultimately drawn towards her and that was his curse, but also William’s relief. Mason often thought of how Pacifica would respond to his actions towards William, so the beatings were less regular although, admittedly, more explosive when they did happen.

“Mint will look good on her.” He nodded to himself in the mirror, letting William interrupt his stare to adjust the tie around his neck. He had been taught by Mr Cerebri before he became the footman on how to do such things, and he was proud to say that he had done well for himself. “Good job, William.” William was barely able to hold in the tears.

 

There was nothing more troublesome for Mr Cerebri than preparing for parties. The Gleeful family was famous for them and were known for grand and decorative balls far beyond what normal servants would be capable of. It was often a nuisance for him, but he dealt with it as he dealt with all things: with a smile.

He ordered the decorations a month in advance and they would be arriving that day in time for the servants to decorate. The food had been sorted and would be delivered in two days’ time; a buffet being decided for the large population of aristocrats that would be invited to the party.

Now he had to go over the list of back up servants that would be helping to serve food and drinks. There were one hundred to choose from, and thirty to decide from. Even the cook, Margaret, had some back up to help her to prepare for the event.

He checked his watch. Everything was on time so far. Perfect, he thought. Now he could get on with his daily duties, which included teaching Mabel how to become the future heiress of the Gleeful family.

 

Emma counted the table cloths once then twice. There were 30 of them, and twelve people at each table, which brought the number to roughly 360. There would be 360 guests inside the Gleeful mansion in a week’s time. She was not sure how she felt about that, feeling incredibly uncomfortable in her skills around so many people; and frightful of security.

She was already on edge around the townsfolk, and forced a sigh out of her mouth as she straightened her dress, brushing dust off the apron. For now, all she could do was help Mabel to decide what dress to wear.

That afternoon she went with Mabel into the town. She was dressed in her long mauve coat and hat to avoid standing out next to the young lady, Mabel dressing as her finest as she so often did. Emma could tell she was looking for Gideon, being horribly disappointed when she did not spot him amongst the crowd, pouting all the way to the dress shop.

“How does this one look?” Mabel would ask with each dress and Emma would say she looked beautiful in each one until Mabel decided to simply buy each dress in varying shades of blue until she paused. In the stand was a single pink dress.

Pink was Mabel’s favourite colour, although she was not allowed to wear it because it was considered too bright for the family. She stared at it with a strong longing in her eyes, almost with desperation for something she simply could not have.

Emma took out her wallet and bought the dress. It was a ridiculous amount and cost her a month’s wages, but for the shine in Mabel’s eye it was worth it. Had the circumstances been different, and nobody been looking, she was certain Mabel would cry.

 

William watched from afar as Mason was dismissed by Pacifica. He could see his wounded pride, and the hurt expression, before he solidified his expression and turned sharply. If there was one thing Mason was not, he was not a quitter.

When William next saw him, there was a smile upon his face that set William on edge. It was not arrogant, nor was it cruel, it was simple delight at having successfully asked out the girl of his dreams without making a fool of himself.

“Come now, William, I need to get a new suit.” He collided with Mabel and Emma on the way, sharing a knowing glance Emma’s way as they passed by. The twins were often obvious in their nature. When they saw something they wanted, they clung to it with all their might.

 

“Can I help you?” Bud, Emma decided, was an unpleasant individual. Here was Mabel Gleeful before him and he had the nerve to block the door and speak rudely to her as though she were nothing but a pest in front of him. Her hand twitched.

“I heard that your son got sent to hospital recently.” Bud sighed, looking annoyed.

“Let me guess, you want some sort of compensation. Well I ain’t got none. Sorry. My brat of a son took all my savings for that arm.”

“Actually-,” Emma could hear the strain in Mabel’s voice, the clear disgust at the man before her as she went into her purse and pulled out a wad of money along with the invite she had intended to give to Gideon herself. “I am here to pay the medical fees, and for a new suit for him. Is he in?”

“No, he isn’t.” Bud eyed the money with a greedy glint. So typical of the townsfolk, Emma thought, as all they saw was the Gleeful’s wealth and they were hooked; at their every call. “I can give it to him.”

“No, I’ll… I’ll come back later.” She hid her disappointment well, behind a perfect smile that never faltered in public though her voice did. “See you later, Mr. Pines.”

 

Yoriko was tending to the flowers in the garden when she noticed something unusual tucked in the corner of the bush just out of sight. Curious, she pulled it out, finding that it was a small red button with a wire attached to it. Ever the one to learn, she pressed the button and a shrill, sharp sound rang through her ears.

She threw it away in disgust, thinking it was one of Emma’s security traps. She rubbed at her ears, and continued tending to the weeds until she was satisfied with how they were, standing up with a proud smile on her face.

She would make sure the gardens were perfect for the ball, getting a rake and raking the gravel at the front entrance. Sometimes it needed to be done twice a day; being the first thing she did when she woke up.

Stanford demanded perfection, and she would give as much as her human body would allow for. She may have had her problems with their crimes, but she was a proud worker and would never surrender her devotion to perfection out of sheer spite.

She would have to clean the walls as well. She would wait until later, until closer to the date so as to avoid more moss growing on the polished white walls.

 

As evening approached, they all sat at the table with a clear exhaustion about them. They ate when Mr Cerebri ate and finished when he finished, although often it was wondered whether he actually needed to eat. William certainly thought not.

Yoriko ate enough for the two of them, shovelling her meal into her mouth like a half-starved animal the moment she was given permission to eat. It was almost comedic, if not a little horrifying.

“You’d swear she’d eat grass.” Margaret had said once.

“I have.” Stated Yoriko as she downed her breakfast tea. “And soil.” It was a disturbing concept to poor William who could not imagine the circumstances that could have led to her doing such a thing.

Mr Cerebri would merely smile when he asked, and say that Yoriko had a cast iron stomach, that even bleach would not burn her throat. The way he had said it suggested that such a thing had happened to her in the past, and this only made him more emotional because only a true sadist would do such a thing to Yoriko.

“I hope that never happens again.” He stated with a confidence he generally lacked. If he had to, he would defend that smile with every fibre of his being, chained or not. Mr Cerebri never stopped smiling.

“If that is what you choose to believe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading so far, Dissolved Boy has been updated too.


	4. Preparations for the Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final preparations are made, and somebody's birthday is remembered.

“A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment.”

-Jane Austen

CHAPTER FOUR

Yoriko learned that Mabel’s favourite flower was Auricula. Out of all the flowers to pick she thought it the strangest that she choose such a flower, but she demanded one be kept in her room in the south-facing room, and that she tend to it every day. Yoriko learned just as quickly that Auricula meant ‘wealth does not equal happiness’ and thought it strangely tragic that Mabel choose such a flower as her favourite. Or perhaps that was way she chose it.

That afternoon she was deciding what flowers would decorate the mansion, knowing that they were going for slightly warmer colours than the standard royal blue, instead choosing baby blues as a part of their theme. As such, she felt it appropriate to choose blue bells as a part of the display pieces, glad for the woodlands that surrounded the village, and for the meadows within the forest.

She had been quite enjoying herself when she felt a presence behind her, turning sharply. Mr Cerebri was waiting for her on the opposite end of the meadow, his ever-present smile firmly on his face.

“Don’t you frighten me like that, Mr. Cerebri, you know I only have so many nerves in me!”

“Yes, and yet I have managed to get on every single one of them.” He chuckled as he came close, soon directly behind her. “You know it is quite dangerous to be in these woods alone.”

“I’m not alone.” She stated. “Besides, I’m almost done. I just needed a few wildflower bundles.”

“Those are quite small bundles.” He observed as she filled her basket with wild flower, standing up and adjusting her large sunhat so it was protecting her head rather than her exposed neck. “I hope you are going to fill them out.”

“Oh yes, I was going to include some of the white roses and Geranium, perhaps some morning glory as well. Can’t have a Gleeful party without some blue and white in there.”

“Quite right.” He offered her his arm and she took it, partly skipping through the meadow. “You are in a good mood.”

“There used to be a flower field in the forest near my house. This reminds me of home.” Yoriko rarely spoke of home, but when she did Mr Cerebri often wondered why she would choose to leave such a place. He, of course, knew the reason and wished it had not been the case, but little could be done on the matter.

“Yes, it reminds me of home as well.”

 

Emma thought Pacifica to be particularly infuriating that afternoon. Mason had chosen the dress specifically for her, and Emma thought it rather suspicious that he knew her measurements already although she dared not to question it and chose a colour he was determined would match himself. He wanted them to flow like the ocean for the dance he would inevitably ask her for in front of everyone. He in his rich navy and her in her sea green, they would move like waves across the dance floor and in front of everyone he would finally kiss her and spite his great uncle.

That was how Emma pictured that he saw it, seeing the way he was constantly shifting in his seat as he pondered how best to give her the present. In the end, he left her with the task, certain that Pacifica would reject the gift if it was from him.

However, Pacifica was playing a challenging game that afternoon, ultimately refusing to take the very expensive gift probably with claims of it being cursed and Emma almost wished that it was so that she would be taught a valuable lesson. However, it was not cursed, and Emma was forced to sit the gift in front of her hoping that she would take it.

She missed the girl leave it behind, and missed William pick it up.

 

“I often think to myself, wouldn’t it be great if things went according to plan?” Margaret moaned as the jelly refused to set and she was forced to push the attempt aside. Her assistant, Mellie, was more than happy to eat the dish. She was a girl of only sixteen, and was somewhat dim-witted with below average grades in school and a simple way of speaking, but Margaret had taken her on because she had a very sharp sense of taste and could tell the slightest, and most subtle, tastes within a meal upon first bite.

“Well the good news is that it tastes wicked.” Mellie had stated, her mouth full of jelly.

“Keep your mouth shut when you eat, girl.” Margaret gently whacked her hand, earning a groan from Mellie as she swallowed the jelly. “It has to look as good as it tastes, but there’s something wrong with the fridge.”

“Something wrong with the fridge?” Another voice spoke out. Margaret visibly stood up straight, slapping Mellie’s back so she would do the same. Mellie, upon seeing who it was, stood up from her stool, stumbling slightly. The stool fell to the ground with a clatter, although she did not reach down to fix it.

“Mr Gleeful, good afternoon.” Stanford Gleeful stood before them. He seldom left his office, but when he did it was rarely to see the kitchen or the working staff; he appeared to actively avoid them when he could. “How can I help you, sir?”

“I was calling to the maid for a cup of coffee, but she does not seem to be around at the moment.”

“Of course, sir, Mellie will get right on it.” Mellie, with eyes on her, scurried to fill the kettle with water.  “Is there anything else you need, sir?”

Stanford seemed lost for a moment, simply staring at Margaret. Margaret had often been told she looked a great deal like Stanford with her square-set jaw and intense blue eyes, however she had wild, curly ginger hair that she had kept pinned firmly under her cap, and although she had the same solid figure she was certain that if there was any relation between them it was distant enough that there was no wealth to be had on her side of the family; her parents were only dentists.

“Perhaps a slice of your date cake as well.” He finally said.

“Right away, sir.” She wasted no time in slicing him a piece.

 

Mabel was in a state of mourning, based upon the state of her room by the time Emma had returned from her trip into town. She was lying in bed, her hair strewn about her and her arms clasping firmly onto one of her pillows, the bed sheets a mess and the curtains still shut.

It was not until Emma looked at the shattered remains of a pot that she understood what had upset her so much. The plant inside had been smothered with too much affection and had ultimately died from overwatering.

Emma worked quietly about the room, cleaning up the mess Mabel had left behind. When she had a swing, she swung hard and fast and destroyed everything in her path.

“There are certain to be others.” Emma had said quietly, and she wondered, for a moment, if Mabel had heard her at all.

“There will be no others. I can’t be trusted with these things.”

“You know now how much to water them. You will do better next time.” She stated, and Mabel gave up the argument.

Then she shot up like a bullet.

“I can’t let Giddy see my room like this!” The fact that she planned to have Gideon Pines in her room concerned Emma somewhat, but she did not say this out loud. Instead, she watched as the girl scurried to sort out her bedsheets herself, only making the creases in the bed stand out more. The curse of silk, Emma thought. They would have to be ironed after they were washed.

“I will get you some new bedsheets, young mistress.”

 

William was exploring the gardens looking for Yoriko when he came across the interior garden. Part of the quadrant where the four main buildings came together, he found that it was evenly divided into four parts representing the four seasons with a statue in the middle. He did not recognise the figure standing in the centre but thought her incredibly beautiful with wave of wild curled hair and a round, glowing face which gleamed in the sunlight.

Fiona Gleeful

July 18th, 1950 - July 8th, 1980

William thought on the date and thought it certain that it was July 8th that day. Whoever Fiona was, she was important enough to the family to be commemorated in the garden, and he stared up at her face in wonder.

He wondered why July 8th was an important day. It hit him like a flash, it was Margaret’s birthday!

‘Oh no! I don’t have a present!’ He rushed out of the garden, ignorant to the eyes that watched him leave.

 

When evening came to the household, there was little worth noting for Margaret as she undid her cap, shaking free her long ginger hair. She had often been mocked for it as a child, bullied relentlessly for the colour until she learned to fight back and became a bully in her own right. She was glad to have those years past her, but still thought to herself that she would have preferred there be no fighting at all as she almost did not get the job because of it.

As she pulled on her pyjamas, she noticed a strange lump under her pillows and lifted the pillow. Underneath were many different gifts.

Knitted gloves from Yoriko, a mystery from Mr Cerebri, chocolates from Emma, vouchers for the local green grocer from Mellie, and tickets to a new movie from William. She thought it absurdly sweet, sweeter than anything she had eaten, and then she noticed something that had no name to it.

Pulling it away, she thought it an expensive gift so it could not belong to any of the servants. It was a golden locket, and inside was a locket of ginger hair and a picture of a woman she did not recognise, but who looked shockingly like her.

Margaret had been raised by her aunt and uncle, who dared not talk about her parents. She wondered if the picture was of her mother, hoped it was, and wondered who had gone through the effort of searching for it for her.

She smiled then.

‘Mr Gleeful.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this installment, thank you for reading so far! I appreciate your comments!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you everyone for reading so far hope you enjoyed that twist!


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